Healing
by suicidalunicorn97
Summary: Hotch can't let himself fall apart after Haley dies, so he takes a blade to his skin to numb the pain. As time goes on, he needs it less and less often. But when he falls in love, will he be able to share his darkest secret? Trigger warning for self-harm. Hotch/Prentiss love story.
1. Chapter 1

The first time was the worst.

The night of Haley's funeral, he locked himself in the bathroom and slashed his arms open with a razor.

He wasn't even thinking. It was almost like an instinct awakened by rage and grief.

Afterwards, it seemed as though the fog had lifted. He felt okay again. he cleaned up the blood, bandaged his wounds, and went on with his nightly routine.

In the weeks to come, he would press on the healing cuts whenever his emotions threatened to overcome him. The physical pain allowed him a controlled release.

He needed to be strong for Jack.

But then the wounds healed, leaving scars but no pain.

The second time he was more careful. He took the blade out of a razor and carefully sanitized it. The scars on his arms were way too obvious, so this time he chose a spot on his chest to make the marks.

He glanced at himself in the mirror, looking at Foyet's work with contempt. The serial killer had left him with several scars...it was time to make his body his own again.

He carved a large X into his chest, just above his heart. He didn't know why at first; it just felt right. Then his inner profiler kicked in, and he almost laughed aloud at how pathetic he was.

The X over his heart represented his guilt. He would never be worthy of love again.

In the next couple months, things seemed to get better. He bought scar cream for his arms. When he went back to the Bureau, he couldn't have anyone seeing the proof of his weakness. He spent more time with Jack. He only thought of Haley a few times a day instead of constantly.

Eventually, he started feeling restless. He needed to go back to work. As much as he enjoyed his time with Jack, his son would be starting school again soon. What would he do during the day to keep himself busy?

So he contacted Chief Strauss and told her he was ready to return. As expected, she had him do a complete psychological evaluation and grief assessment.

 _"Do you blame yourself for what happened?"_

 _"Do you have thoughts of hurting yourself or ending your life?"_

 _"How are you doing, really?"_

He blatantly lied his way through these questions. He had helped write them; he knew exactly how to answer.

The team eagerly welcomed him back, and he quickly readjusted to the job. Occasionally he would have flashbacks, but they grew less frequent as time went on. When they did happen, he knew how to deal with them. He kept a thin razor blade with him at all times. He rarely used it, but felt reassured knowing it was there if he needed it.

He self-harmed less often as well. He was getting better; healing.

But one thing he never counted on was falling in love again.

* * *

 **Hey :) This is just an idea that's been going through my mind. It's going to be a Hotch/Prentiss story, so stop reading if you don't like that sort of thing. Should I keep going? Is it any good so far? Feedback is appreciated! Thanks.**


	2. Chapter 2

**The main events of this story take place after the Season 7 finale. (Some spoilers for season 7, mostly canon divergence through season 8) Emily doesn't leave the BAU.**

* * *

The first time Aaron Hotchner fell in love, it happened so quickly; in a whirlwind of emotions and desire. The moment he saw Haley Brooks, he knew they were meant for each other.

When she died, he was certain that he would never love again.

The next time he fell in love, it was more slowly. It happened so gradually, he didn't even realize it had happened at all. His love for Emily Prentiss developed over the course of several years. He had always been attracted to her - who wouldn't be? Her dark, silky hair, long legs, and almost too-perfect face...and her eyes. Her gorgeous brown eyes.

When she'd first joined the team, he was wary of her. He didn't like change, and her presence made him nervous. He was almost certain that Strauss had something to do with it, which made him trust Emily even less. However when his fears were confirmed, he was pleasantly surprised that Prentiss hadn't betrayed him to Strauss.

That was the beginning: Respect.

She continued to prove herself again and again. She was a brilliant agent. She thought on her feet, making split-second decisions that saved the team more than once. She knew when to be serious and when to let loose. Her laugh was one of the few things that could make him smile.

She was an incredible agent, and an equally amazing friend. The other team members confided in her almost too easily, but she never broke their confidence. She became an emotional sounding board for everyone. Well, everyone except him.

He had grown accustomed to keeping his feelings to himself. It wasn't a bad thing; as Unit Chief over the BAU, he needed some degree of distance in order to be effective in his position. Besides, if anyone were to find out about his self-harm, it could cost him his career.

When Emily was nearly killed by Ian Doyle, the next few months without her was hell. He had to watch his team - his family - grieving, and he wished he could tell them the truth. But he had to keep her safe.

The new guilt, added to the responsibility for Haley's death (which he thought he had buried), made for several relapses.

When she returned, he realized that he could never lose her again.

This was when he started to realize he might be in love with her.

* * *

The moment he couldn't deny it any longer was at JJ's wedding. Dancing with Emily, lights shining all around...he allowed himself to _feel_ something for her. He held her body close to his, breathed in the scent of her hair, and felt his heart beat faster. He looked into her sparkling eyes, and thought he saw his feelings mirrored.

The song ended, and he reluctantly let her go. God, how he wanted to kiss her...to touch his own mouth to those perfect lips...but he didn't. He couldn't. She was his agent; it would be unprofessional to say the least. He tried to convince himself that it was the joyous atmosphere that was fueling these feelings; that he had simply imagined the look in her eyes.

 _But he couldn't get her out of his head._

* * *

 **Alright guys, I'm done setting up the background. The next chapter will contain actual dialogue! Sorry I'm such a sucky writer, hopefully you didn't die of boredom through this chapter.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Little bit of background information: (SPOILERS FOR SEASON 8)**

 **The Silencer was a serial killer named John Myers, who killed his victims after stitching their mouths shut. He suffered** ** _severe_** **abuse as a child, and was deaf until he was forced to undergo experimental surgery. This left him with a cochlear implant, which allowed him to hear. However it also caused an incessant buzzing noise, which contributed the rage that led him to kill. He communicated mainly with sign language even though he could hear and understand the spoken word.**

* * *

"John, put the weapon down!" Morgan yelled. They had gotten there just in time; The Silencer was holding a family hostage.

The man wildly started to sign, leaving most of the team confused.

"Slow down, please." Prentiss signed back, also saying the words aloud.

"There's no peace." She translated. "There's nowhere to go. I can't go back to prison."

"There's no other way, John." Hotch said quietly.

As soon as the man turned to face him, Hotch knew what was going to happen. He quickly covered the little girl's eyes. She didn't need to see this. However, for some strange reason, he couldn't look away as John Myers positioned the gun under his own chin and pulled the trigger.

It was over.

* * *

On the plane ride home, Hotch was even more quiet than usual. He pretended to read a book, but wasn't surprised when Prentiss sat across from him with a concerned look in her beautiful eyes.

"You okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Why?" He feigned innocence.

"You haven't said more than five words since we left the crime scene!"

"Thanks for your concern, but I really am okay." He insisted, his tone indicating that this conversation was over.

"All right. Just know that I'm here for you if you ever need to talk." She gently touched his arm, and he instantly felt a little better. She had that effect on him.

But as soon as she left, his thoughts returned to John Myers. The look in his eyes right before he pulled the trigger...it was the same look that Hotch saw in the mirror every day. Hopelessness. Exhaustion.

 _No peace._

The man was right, there was no peace to be found anywhere. Only more noise, and more evil.

He forced himself to stop. He wasn't suicidal. He couldn't let his mind go down that road. It wasn't even an option. No matter how much he wanted to give up, Jack needed him. Truthfully, it was the only reason he was still alive. He couldn't leave his son an orphan.

* * *

"Hey, what's up with Aaron?" Rossi asked as Emily returned to her seat next to him.

"He insisted that he's fine." She shrugged. "We both know that's a lie, but I'm not sure what we can do about it. If he doesn't want to talk, I can't make him."

Rossi smirked. "Actually..."

"What?"

"Come on, I see how he looks at you...and how _you_ look at him."

She blushed slightly. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Now _that_ is a lie." Rossi grinned. "For a couple of profilers, you two sure are clueless."

"Whatever you say, Rossi." Emily rolled her eyes, but in the back of her mind she wondered if there was any truth to it. The night of JJ's wedding, when they had danced...she had been convinced there was something in his eyes, something hidden behind the walls he put up. The way he held her close, their bodies moving together so perfectly...it was like a dream. It had ended much too soon.

She glanced over at him and sighed softly. As much as she hated to admit it, she couldn't deny it any longer: She was in love with Aaron Hotchner.


	4. Chapter 4

**TRIGGER WARNING FOR SELF HARM.**

* * *

Later that evening, Hotch went to Jessica's house to pick up Jack.

"Daddy!" The little boy's face lit up when he saw his father, and he rushed towards him. Hotch bent down to hug him.

"Hey, bud. How was your day?" He listened as Jack chattered on about school. He couldn't help but smile. His son was so innocent. The world had yet to break him down, and he hoped to keep Jack sheltered as long as possible.

"What about you, Daddy? Did you catch any bad guys?"

Hotch nodded. "Of course."

"Good!" Jack exclaimed. "Can we eat? I'm hungry."

"Sure thing."

The rest of Hotch's evening went by quickly as he drove Jack home and fixed dinner. He delayed bed time as long as possible. Nights were when things got bad. When he was alone with his thoughts...

He read a couple stories to Jack, who passed out after the first chapter. But Hotch continued to sit there, watching his son. Jack was still so small...every time he had to leave for work, he felt anxious about leaving him.

He'd taught Jack to protect himself, and to never talk to strangers. To always trust his instincts. But that didn't calm his fears. Bad things seemed to happen to those he cared about.

He sighed and put the book down. Tomorrow would come earlier than he wanted it to. He needed to get some rest.

 _45 minutes._

 _An hour._

 _Two hours._

Hotch sighed with frustration. Why couldn't he turn his mind off? He desperately needed to sleep.

 _No peace._

Those words kept echoing in his head. He finally sat up and flipped on the lamp. He opened his bedside table and removed his wallet, reaching in and carefully pulling out the razor blade he kept there for emergencies. He ran a hand through his hair. So much for three months clean.

He walked to the bathroom and removed his shirt, getting some paper towels ready to catch the blood. He sanitized the razor, and the area he planned to cut. He was always very meticulous about this process. He couldn't afford to get an infection.

Finally, he raised the blade to his chest and slid it across his skin.

 _Relief._

He exhaled. The sharp sting felt so good.

 _Again._

He pressed the edge to his chest again, watching with sick pleasure as the blood began to bead across the surface.

 _More._

He felt the painful memories slipping away. In this moment, it was just him and the blade. He unconsciously strayed from the area he had disinfected, cutting across his ribs and his abdomen as well.

 _Finally, there was peace._

He cleaned up after himself, then crawled into bed. At last, he could sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Hotch awoke to his alarm beeping incessantly. He groaned and stretched to turn it off. In doing so, he inhaled sharply at the sudden pain. It took him a moment to remember last night's relapse. He shut off his alarm and gingerly got out of bed. He shuffled to the bathroom and was alarmed at what he saw in the mirror. His white nightshirt was stained with blood. Thin lines of crimson crisscrossed the front.

"Oops." He muttered. He might have gotten a little carried away. The cuts must have re-opened as he slept.

He peeled the fabric away from the wounds, wincing as they opened up again. Oh well. At least this way he could clean them out. He carried on with his morning routine. The cuts felt like they were on fire as he showered, but it was good. Pain was a good thing. It was almost like a second relapse.

He bandaged himself up, ensuring that no blood would show if the cuts reopened. No one could know about this.

* * *

Emily arrived at the BAU earlier than usual, hoping to catch Aaron before the rest of the team got there. She anxiously picked at her nails. What if he rejected her? But she'd never know unless she tried...

She turned her head at the sound of the door opening, and felt her heart quicken as she saw him. Those intense, brooding eyes...perfectly styled hair that she was dying to run her hands through...he was the _definition_ of tall, dark, and handsome.

"Hey," She greeted him with a smile.

"You're here early." He observed. She followed him to his office, where he set his briefcase down. "Is everything alright?"

"What? Yes, yeah, everything is great. Listen, I was, uh, I was wondering if..." _Oh god, she was rambling..._ "Would you like to get a drink with me after work? Maybe catch a movie?"

He looked confused. "Are...are you asking me on a date?"

She chuckled nervously. "I'm trying, but so far it's not going very well." There was a moment of awkward silence, and Emily began to regret her decision. "If you don't want to-"

"No, no...I'd-I'd love to." He smiled, and for the first time, she saw uncertainty in his eyes.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course."

"Great," She beamed. "We'll talk details later, I think I see Strauss on her way up here with a case for us."

"I look forward to it. The date, I mean, not the case." He stumbled over his words, and it was the most adorable thing she had ever seen."

"Me too." She walked out just as Chief Strauss came in.

 _I hope this isn't a mistake..._ She thought.

* * *

 **Hey guys! PLEASE HELP ME WITH IDEAS FOR THE DATE! Leave a review, or PM me. Did you like this chapter? Sorry if Hotch is a little OOC. And I'm also sorry for my blatant over-use of Italics lol.**


	5. Chapter 5

The end of the day seemed to come much too fast for Hotch. It was a good thing the case was resolved quickly, because he was way too distracted to be of any good. He couldn't stop thinking about his date with Emily…Had he been wrong to accept her offer? Regardless, it was too late to change his mind now. He'd already called Jessica and told her he was going out tonight, so he'd be late picking up Jack.

They decided to meet at a club that was within walking distance of both their apartments. Hotch felt like a teenager again as he went through his closet, trying to decide what to wear. Light colors were out of the question; he needed to make sure that his cuts didn't bleed through his shirt if they opened up.

He decided on jeans and a long sleeved navy-blue dress shirt. Safe; not too dressy and not too casual. He left his apartment and walked towards the club. He took a deep breath before entering, trying to calm his nerves. He'd been on dates before, how was this any different?

 _Because it's Prentiss…_

He stood at the bar and glanced around. There was no sign of Emily, and for a moment he hoped she'd decided to cancel.

"Hey, stranger."

He almost jumped when he heard the familiar voice behind him. He turned, and what he saw took his breath away. Emily was wearing a simple black dress that went mid-thigh, and a pair of black heels that made her gorgeous legs look even longer. Her hair was curled in waves, and her dark eyes were accented by a smoky eyeshadow.

For the first time ever, he felt shy. It was a strange feeling for him. Aaron Hotchner was not shy. Quiet, yes. But never _shy_. Nonetheless, as he admired this beautiful woman in front of him, he became acutely aware of every imperfection. How could a woman like her ever fall for him? She was intelligent, witty, and stunning.

"You look nice," He heard himself say, immediately cringing internally. _Nice?_ He could think of a hundred words that described her better than that. Beautiful. Dazzling. Gorgeous. Exquisite.

Thankfully, she didn't seem offended. She smiled, flashing that perfect smile. "Thanks. You do too. So, you gonna buy me drink?"

As Aaron ordered their drinks, Emily tried not to stare. He was so _perfect._ His usual suit was replaced by a very nice pair of fitted jeans with a navy-blue dress shirt. His hair was perfectly combed, and she wanted nothing more than to run her fingers through it and mess it up.

He seemed kind of on-edge, but that was to be expected. She was nervous too, although she tried not to show it. After a few drinks, he seemed to loosen up. She was surprised at how easily the conversation flowed. They talked about a wide range of topics, and discovered that they had more in common than they could have guessed.

She made a dumb joke, but he laughed anyway. And that was when she knew without a doubt that she _loved_ him.

He had such a charming smile, one that he so rarely showed. And this was the first time she had ever heard him laugh! It was a beautiful sound, and she wanted to hear it every day.

"Do you want to dance?" He asked.

"Sure." She smiled back.

He led her onto the dance floor, and was reminded of the first dance they had shared at JJ's wedding. This was different; the music was more upbeat, the pace faster. The combination of her perfume and the suggestive atmosphere caused him to entertain certain...thoughts. Thoughts that he should not be thinking about one of his agents. Then again, he knew what he was getting into when he met her here.

"Hey, relax." Emily touched his cheek, and he couldn't help but notice how soft her skin was. He ignored the apprehension in the back of his mind, and focused on her. He held her close and followed the rhythm of the song.

One song turned into five, and soon he'd let go of all inhibitions. He was actually _enjoying_ himself! Before he knew it, they were the only people left on the floor. The last song ended, and he reluctantly let her go.

"Looks like it's closing time. Let me walk you home." Aaron took her hand again, and they left the club. The night air was cool, but not too chilly. It felt nice after being in the humid bar. They walked in silence for the most part, but it wasn't awkward. It was a comfortable feeling. When they reached her apartment, Aaron realized they were still holding hands. It felt so natural, he didn't want to let her go.

"I had a great time tonight." Emily looked up at him. Even with heels, he was several inches taller than her. She let her eyes wander down to his lips. Was he going to kiss her?

"Me too. We should do it again sometime." There was a pause, and suddenly his lips were on hers. It was a gentle kiss, almost a hesitant one. His mouth was so soft...

He pulled away too soon, leaving her breathless and desperate for more. But she would have to be content with that one little taste. "I'll see you tomorrow." He smiled, and turned to leave.

Her hands were shaking, and it took her a moment to fit the key to the lock. She noted that although Aaron stepped off the porch, he stayed within watching distance to make sure she got into her apartment. She smiled. He was so protective. She had come to realize it was how he showed that he cared.

Once safely inside, she watched him walk away. She touched her lips and smiled, thinking of the sweet kiss they had shared. She hoped it wouldn't be the last.


	6. Chapter 6

Upon leaving Emily's apartment, Hotch called Jessica to tell her he could pick up Jack. She answered the phone after the fourth ring, sounding sleepy.

 _"_ _Hey, what's up?"_

"I can come get Jack now, I'm just walking back home. I can be there within fifteen minutes."

She chuckled. _"Walk of shame, huh?"_

"What? No, I-"

 _"_ _I'm kidding, Aaron. And don't worry about Jack, he can stay here for the night. He's already asleep."_

"Really? What time is it?"

 _"_ _It's 1:30 in the morning."_

"What? That can't be right…" He looked at his watch, and sure enough, it was 1:32 AM. "Wow, I guess I lost track of time. I'm so sorry, Jessica."

 _"_ _Hey, don't be! I'm glad you had a good time. It's been way too long since you had a night out. Just be sure to stop by in the morning before work. Jack missed you."_

Hotch felt a pang of guilt. He couldn't make this a habit. He didn't want Jack to feel like he was second to anything, especially his father's love life. "I will. Thanks again."

" _No problem. Goodnight, Aaron."_

He hung up the phone and unlocked his door. Out of habit, he surveyed his apartment to make sure nothing was out of place before he could relax. His body was tired, but his mind was wide awake with thoughts of dark brown eyes and soft lips. Thoughts of _her._

So many emotions. So many conflicting feelings…She made him feel alive. When he was with her, it was almost like he forgot the pain entirely. It felt so right, but at the same time it felt so wrong. There were too many reasons why this couldn't work.

 _Coworkers shouldn't date. What if Strauss found out?_

Hotch sighed. It was more than that. _He didn't deserve her._

He didn't deserve to feel okay. He didn't deserve to be loved. Bad things happened to those he cared about. He had no right to put Emily in danger.

And then there was Haley…She'd been gone a long time, but he still felt like he was betraying her. True, they'd been divorced when she was killed, but that didn't change the fact that his heart still belonged to her.

Dammit, why did he have to overthink everything? Why couldn't he just enjoy the small bits of happiness that came his way?

 _Because I don't deserve them._ He thought.


	7. Chapter 7

**The next couple chapters will be loosely based on the episode God Complex (Season 8 episode 4). Shoutout to ahowell1993 for all her ideas and help :)**

* * *

Emily Prentiss couldn't stop smiling. She tried to tone it down as she entered the Bureau. The last thing she needed was the team analyzing her and Hotch. She wished that her poker face was as good as his.

No such luck.

"Someone's happy this morning. Hot date last night?" Rossi observed.

She rolled her eyes. "What, I can't be in a good mood without you assuming I'm dating someone?"

"Prentiss is dating someone?" Morgan, who was walking by, suddenly stopped to join in.

She groaned. "I'm not having this conversation. Don't we have a case?"

"Deflection. She's definitely hiding something." Reid noted with a grin.

"Conference room, everyone." Emily's head shot towards the sound of Hotch's voice, and she mentally cringed. She really needed to watch her reactions around him.

"Alright, alright…saved by the bell." Morgan smirked. "But you can't get off that easy. I want all the juicy details later."

Five minutes later, they were all gathered around the table waiting to be briefed on the latest psycho.

Emily discreetly watched Aaron out of the corner of her eye. He seemed to be avoiding her gaze, and his body language was much different than last night. He was angled away from her. She felt a bit of anxiety. Had she been wrong about the spark she felt between them last night?

She pushed her own worries aside as they were briefed about the case. This was going to be an interesting one…a college student had woken up with his leg amputated, _and someone else's attached at the stump_. They had no idea who the limb belonged to.

Within a half hour, they were in the jet on their way to Albuquerque, New Mexico. Prentiss cornered Hotch while he was getting coffee. "Hey, is everything okay?" She asked quietly.

"Yes, everything is fine." He said quickly, avoiding eye contact, which suggested things were definitely _not_ fine. Before she could interrogate him further, he slipped past her and began working victimology with the rest of the team.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and joined in. They could talk about things after they'd solved the case.

Hotch felt guilty for dismissing her concern, but they needed to focus right now. He knew he was just using this case as an excuse to avoid talking, but it was a good excuse, right?

* * *

"Hey, what's up with Hotch and Prentiss?" Reid whispered to Morgan.

"Two words, kid: sexual tension." He chuckled quietly. "Maybe Hotch found out about Emily's hot date last night and he's jealous."

"Anything you two would like to share with the class?" Hotch glanced at his agents curiously.

"No, sir." Morgan smirked.


	8. Chapter 8

**This chapter is for you, ahowell1993 :) (Also, quick note. For the sake of this story, let's just say Beth doesn't exist, and Hotch hasn't dated anyone since Haley.)**

* * *

Prentiss once again found herself grateful for such a wonderful team. They put together the case fairly quickly. Within a matter of hours, they had been able to deduce how the unsub was choosing his victims. He drove around a bloodmobile, where college students and anyone else could donate blood.

But just when they thought they were getting ahead of him, a call came in. Another body.

At the crime scene, Prentiss was secretly relieved that Hotch had stayed behind at the station. Her mind seemed to be clearer when he wasn't right there. She couldn't help but watch him discreetly all day, searching for signs of something she must have done wrong. Why was he acting this way?

"The victim's name is Maria Rodriguez." Morgan's voice brought her back to reality.

"This is the first time he's operated on a woman. She died from blood loss. There's no gangrene on the transplanted leg, which means the surgery is fresh." Reid observed.

"Do you think he still has the other woman?"

"It justifies his haste in dumping her here, he didn't go to the desert or a hospital."

"It also means he's speeding up his surgeries. Reid where are you going?" Morgan called after the youngest member of their team, who was wandering off. Prentiss followed, curious.

Reid dialed his cell, and she listened in. "Garcia, can you tell me where the nearest payphone is?"

Just then, her own cell rang. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw that it was Hotch. "Hello?"

"Prentiss, can you get everyone back to the station? We may have a new lead."

"Sure thing." She hung up quickly, trying not to think about how professional he sounded. He was acting as if nothing had happened between them!

She informed the rest of the team, who jumped in their cars and headed back. Prentiss, however, waited for Reid. She was worried about him. He'd been acting a little off.

"Prentiss! Where are you going?" Reid ended his call, and approached her.

"Hotch called, he wants us back at the station ASAP."

"Can you give me a ride to 5th and Main? It's on the way."

"Uhhh, sure. What's at 5th and Main?"

"I need to talk to someone."

She looked at him strangely. "Um...okay, get in."

"So, what's the deal? Why so mysterious?" Prentiss asked as they drove.

"What do you mean?"

"Don't answer a question with a question."

Reid stayed silent.

"Come on, something's not right. What is it?"

Reid sighed. "Look, remember a while back, those migraines I was having? There was a geneticist that I reached out to."

"And this has to do with the case how?"

"I think my friend might be able to help me see something that we missed."

"You have four of the best minds I know back at the station." Prentiss pointed out.

"I know, but sometimes a different perspective just helps me think better, okay?"

"Why are you being so ambiguous?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"You're not using words like 'him' or 'her', you're saying things like 'they are', 'my friend'."

"So?"

Prentiss glanced over at him. He seemed agitated. "Reid, what is going on? I'm not the only one who's noticed you've been acting different. Why won't you talk to any of us? Especially Morgan and JJ, you're closest to them."

Reid stared at his hands. "Because I don't want them to know about her." He answered quietly. "It's nothing bad, it's just personal."

Despite her obvious curiosity, Prentiss didn't question him further. She didn't want to pressure him into sharing anything he wasn't comfortable with. They reached their destination, and she looked around, confused. There was nothing here but a gas station, some local shops, and a phone booth.

Reid hopped out of the car. "Thanks for the ride. You head back, I'll take a cab. I'll call you if we can figure out something useful."

Prentiss watched as Reid approached the payphone and entered a number. She shook her head. What was going on? He wouldn't tell anyone about this mystery girl, and could only contact her through a payphone? It seemed sketchy to say the least."

Oh, well. Reid knew what he was doing, right?

* * *

Back at the station, she was greeted with the obvious question: "Where's Reid?"

"Following a lead." She answered. Thankfully, her cell rang before they could interrogate her further. "Reid?"

"Prentiss. Tell Garcia to look for a mortician whose spouse has a limb deformity caused by chicken pox."

"Wow. That's specific. Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure, yeah. He's using the bloodmobile to screen for perfect candidates for his experiments. He'd get a medical history from potential victims. Chicken Pox, if contracted in in utero before a baby is even born, can cause limp hypoplasia, the binding of which is similar to amputation."

"Great, we'll get that info to Garcia. Are you headed back here yet?"

"Yeah, I'm in the cab now. See you soon."

They relayed the new information to Garcia, who quickly located someone who fit the profile. John Nelson, a mortician who quit his job at the funeral home two months ago. His wife, Linda, had been born with limb hypoplasia caused by chicken pox.

Prentiss was amazed. Very rarely did they get a profile this specific. Whoever this girl was, she had to be amazing.

The takedown went fairly well. They were able to apprehend John Nelson, and save the girl he was holding captive.

* * *

The next morning, the agents headed to the airport, eager to get home. Hotch rode with Rossi, and Prentiss tried to ignore the fact that he was avoiding her like the plague.

"Hey, it looks like Morgan and JJ just left. Could I get a ride with you?"

Prentiss smiled at Reid, thankful for the company. "Definitely." As they drove, Prentiss couldn't contain her curiosity anymore. "Reid, who is this girl? You were on the phone with her for like ten minutes, and you came back with the breakthrough that solved the whole case!"

Reid smiled proudly. "I know, isn't she amazing?"

"She sure sounds like it. Tell me more about her?" Prentiss prodded gently.

Reid hesitated. "Only if you promise not to tell the rest of the team."

"It's a deal."

"Her name is Maeve. I started talking with her about four months ago, and she was able to give me natural remedies that cured my headaches almost immediately. I'd been to so many doctors, and she helped without ever seeing me."

"Wait, so you've never met her?"

"No, it's...complicated."

"If it was me, I'd want to find her and say thank you in person."

"Trust me, I do...but it wouldn't be safe."

"Why not?" Prentiss asked, concerned. "Reid, are you in danger?"

"Me? No." He chuckled dryly. "It's for her safety, not mine."

"Is she in Witness Protection, or...?"

"She...has a stalker. She's moved several times, but the threatening phone calls and emails just keep coming. The police haven't been able to find anything on the guy."

"Are you serious? We've worked on several stalking cases. We know how to catch these guys, it's what we do! We could help her."

"I know...I've told her that, several times. But she won't accept my help. And I don't want to put her in further danger by accident."

Prentiss was quiet for a moment. "Reid, I know you may not want to hear this, but I think we need to tell the rest of the team."

He started to protest, but she stopped him. "Remember Ian Doyle? I almost died. But it could have been avoided if I had just talked to you guys, told you I was in danger. I should have let you in, but I was too afraid of what would happen. I think I know how she feels. It's not exactly the same situation, but I'm worried it might have a similar turnout...and she might not be as lucky as I was."

Reid nodded. "Okay...but can you help me tell them?"

"Of course. I can see how much she means to you."

Reid blushed. "Yeah."

She smiled. He was adorable.

"So, what's up with you? You've been acting a little off the past few days too."

Prentiss scoffed. "Oh, it's nothing. Just a little...dating trouble."

Reid raised an eyebrow. "I just told you about my secret girlfriend who's in hiding from a stalker. I think you can tell me about your 'dating trouble'."

"It's...not as simple as that." Reid continued to stare her down, and she finally caved. "Alright, I went on a date with Hotch."

"You...you what?" Reid's mouth fell open.

"I know, I know...it was probably a horrible idea. Now he's avoiding me, and he won't talk to me...and I feel like I did something wrong..."

"Did you guys...you know..."

"Oh, God no. We haven't slept together. We just went out for a few drinks, we danced...and he kissed me." She felt herself smiling uncontrollably at the memory.

"Hm...Morgan wasn't kidding about that sexual tension."

"Wait, what?"

"Uh, nothing. I think you guys would be good together, honestly."

"Really? Usually it's frowned upon to date your Unit Chief."

"True, but I see the way he looks at you. I'm surprised this hasn't happened sooner."

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm serious. I think he's just feeling a little overwhelmed. It's been a long time since he's dated anyone. He's probably just not sure how to deal with his feelings towards you now that he's acted on them. He might be trying to figure out his next step. You know Hotch, he overthinks everything."

"That's true." Prentiss admitted. "Thanks, Reid. I didn't realize how much I needed to talk to someone about this. It's been driving me crazy."

"Of course." He grinned. "And it goes without saying that I won't tell the rest of the team."

"YES. I think we should definitely keep this between us for now."

"Deal." Reid smiled.

Prentiss felt much better after talking with Reid, but she couldn't shake the anxiety that remained. She couldn't get those dark eyes out of her head. Those perfect lips... _him._

* * *

 **Thanks for being patient with me, guys! It took waaaay longer than I expected to get this chapter up. Please drop a review and let me know what you think so far! Any ideas are welcome.**


	9. Chapter 9

He wasn't ignoring her. He was just focusing on the case.

At least, that's what Hotch told himself. But when the case was over, he had no more excuses. He knew this probably wasn't gonna go away on its own, they'd have to talk about it at some point.

 _But how could he tell her how he was feeling when he couldn't even explain it to himself?_

"Hey, Reid. Are you ever gonna tell us how you figured out who our unsub was?" Morgan asked.

Reid glanced at Prentiss. "Um, yeah, that's actually something I've been meaning to talk to you guys about..."

"Well? Go on."

Reid glanced at Prentiss, who smiled and nodded encouragingly.

"I have a girlfriend." He blurted out.

Morgan grinned. "I knew it! Pay up, J."

JJ rolled her eyes and handed over a 20.

"Wait, you guys knew?"

"We had a hunch." Hotch said, amused. "Anyway, how does this relate to the case?"

"She's a geneticist. I told her what we'd discovered so far, and she was able to tell me what conditions caused birth defects in the womb."

"She sounds like a real smart girl. She has to be, to keep up with you." Morgan clapped Reid on the back. "What's her name?"

Reid blushed. "Maeve."

"Wait, is that why you asked Garcia to look up the nearest payphone?" JJ asked, confused. "Why couldn't you use your cell?"

Reid's smile faded. "She has a stalker. I never call her from the same place twice."

"Why didn't you tell us? We can help her, it's what we do." Hotch said.

"I know, but she asked me not to involve you."

"I'm assuming you've decided it's time for us to get involved, based on the fact that you've told us."

"Yes." Reid looked down. "I couldn't live with myself if anything happened to her when I could've done something."

Hotch couldn't help it; his gaze wandered to Prentiss. He would never forgive himself if something happened to her either. Which is why this could never work out...

The rest of the plane ride was spent discussing Maeve's stalker. The more they learned about Mystery Girl, the more they could see why Reid had fallen for her. They seemed perfect for each other. His eyes lit up whenever he talked about her.

It was a look Hotch recognized. He saw the same thing in himself when he thought about Emily...

* * *

Upon arriving at the BAU, Hotch went to his office to finish some paperwork. He wasn't surprised when Prentiss knocked softly. "Hey, you got a minute?"

"Yes, come in."

She shut the door behind her, and sat across from his desk awkwardly. "Are we...gonna talk about this?"

"This?"

"You've been avoiding me."

"No, I...well, maybe."

"Exactly."

"I'm sorry, Emily...I just..." He struggled to find the right words. "I don't think we should pursue a personal relationship."

Prentiss tried to hide her disappointment. "Can I ask why?"

"I just don't think it's a good idea."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No, not at all!" Hotch felt horrible. He didn't want her to think this was her fault. He stood up and came around to the other side of the desk. "Emily, you're a beautiful, brilliant woman. Any man would be lucky to have you. I truly enjoyed our date the other night. But given the circumstances, I don't think it would be wise to continue dating."

Prentiss wanted to argue. What "Circumstances"? Why was it "not a good idea"? He was being really vague about the whole thing. So impersonal, almost as if it was a denial for a promotion, not a rejection.

But she didn't argue. She didn't push it. Because there was something in his eyes that begged her not to. His words implied that he didn't care, but his body language didn't lie. There was something more to his reluctance than he was letting on. She just wished that he would be honest with her.

"Okay," She accepted. "I'll let you go. See you tomorrow."

"Goodbye." He said softly, regretting that it had to be this way.

* * *

That night after Jack was in bed, Hotch found solace in his blade once again. He wanted to protect Emily. That was the whole point of this...but he'd seen the hurt in her eyes. It made him want to call her back, to kiss her, assure her that she was loved, ask her to be _his..._

But he couldn't. It had to be like this. She was safer this way.

* * *

 **Sorry about the short chapter, the next one will be longer :) Thanks for all your reviews! They inspire me to keep writing.**


	10. Chapter 10

**This chapter is based loosely off Season 8 Episode 12, Zugzwang. (Spoiler alert, I'm NOT going to kill off Maeve because I'm still freaking pissed that the writers of Criminal Minds did that.)**

 **The way Maeve was kidnapped is a little different, because in this story The Replicator isn't a huge part of the plot.**

 **(Yes, this is still very much a Hotch/Prentiss story. But Maeve's rescue is very important to how they end up getting together. You'll see. Don't stop reading plz lol)**

* * *

The team slowly put together a case for Maeve's stalker, working on personal time. They all wished they could call it a Federal case and give it their full, concentrated effort, but the Bureau never would have allowed it.

However gradually, they were able to deduce quite a bit about the stalker. The most shocking discovery being that the stalker was a woman. This finding proved to be the most important breakthrough.

But it came too late.

* * *

Hotch was at home playing a board game with Jack when his phone rang.

"Agent Hotchner."

"Hotch, it's me." Reid said breathlessly. "Something is wrong. I-I think the stalker got to Maeve." His voice broke.

"I'll be at the BAU in ten minutes. Call the others, have them meet us there." Hotch felt his heart sink.

He hung up, and turned to Jack. "I'm sorry, buddy. But it looks like you'll be spending some more time with Aunt Jessica today.

"It's okay, Daddy." Jack smiled brightly. "You have to catch the bad guy."

"That's right." Hotch was glad that his son understood how important his job was, and that lives were often at stake.

After dropping Jack off, he sped to the BAU, arriving at the same time as Rossi.

"What's going on?"

"I don't know. He wasn't able to give me many details over the phone."

Reid met them at the door, visibly upset. "Guys, I need your help. I-I can't focus, my head is a mess.."

"Calm down, Spence." JJ gently touched his arm. "Tell us what happened."

Once they were all gathered in the conference room, Reid began. "I've been recording all of our conversations in case something like this happened. Listen." He played a tape, fast forwarding to the important part.

"...So you have to read it. I think you'll love the contrast between-" Maeve's voice suddenly dropped off, and there was the faint sound of a door being jimmied open in the background.

"Maeve, is that-"

"Spencer, I think it's her." The fear in Maeve's voice was evident.

"Do you have your taser?"

"Yes, but-" Once again Maeve was cut off, but this time by the sound of glass breaking and a sickening thud that could only be a body hitting the floor.

"MAEVE, NO!"

Reid shut off the tape. "Please," He whispered. "Please help me find her."

* * *

 **Sorry for the short chapter. I'm writing fanfiction in class, shame on me. I'll write more as soon as I get home. As usual, please read and review :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**For the sake of simplifying this fanfiction, we're just gonna say that Maeve's ex-fiancé doesn't exist.**

* * *

In less than two hours, they had figured out the identity of Maeve's stalker. Diane Turner was a research assistant at Mendel University where Maeve had worked. Her parents committed suicide when she was eight years old. She had applied for a PhD and was rejected, which led to her rage and obsession with Maeve.

They stormed her apartment, but found that it was empty. Thankfully, Garcia was able to find a second property, a loft registered in her parents' name. The team headed there immediately.

Upon arriving, they saw instantly that something was wrong.

"Oh, God...they're on the roof..." Reid started hyperventilating, and JJ tried to calm him down.

"Reid, what was her Doctoral Thesis on?"

"Cellular death in suicide patients...why?"

"I know what's going on. JJ, stay with Reid." Hotch ordered.

"No, you have to let me come with you!" He cried.

"Reid, you know it's a bad idea."

"I don't care."

There wasn't time to argue. The team scaled the fire escape, and Hotch quickly assessed the situation. Diane was holding a gun pointed at Maeve, who was standing on the edge of the building.

"Diane, put the gun down!"

"No! She has to feel it!"

"Feel what?" Rossi asked, trying to distract her.

"That she's dying." Hotch answered for Diane, who turned to look at him.

"You read my thesis?"

"Yes."

"I don't believe you." She accused.

"Your theory is that when you make a decision to give up, that the cells in your body start to die."

Diane nodded. "That's right."

"She's not going to do it, Diane."

"Shut up! Just shut up!"

"I'll do it."

The entire team stared at Hotch. What was he doing?

"Diane, your theory wouldn't apply here. She's not going to jump. Let me do it."

The woman laughed. "You'd do that? You'd kill yourself for her?"

"Let me prove it." He holstered his gun.

"Fine. Now I'm interested. Get up there." She took Maeve's arm and shoved her towards Reid, immediately training the gun on Hotch instead. "Do it." She snapped.

He put his hands up, and stepped onto the ledge. He felt a strange thrill. Why did this feel so right?

"Do you feel it?" She laughed feverishly. "Your whole body beginning to decay? It makes it easier to want to kill yourself. Go! Go ahead! Prove my theory!"

"It won't work while you're pointing the gun at me. It has to be my decision to jump."

Diane blinked. "You...you're right." She began to lower the gun, but jerked it back up. "How do I know you won't back down?"

Hotch put his arms out and leaned into the wind. He tried to convince himself it was just for show, but his heart was racing. Maybe this was his chance...But he couldn't lose his focus just yet. "Put the gun down so I can do this, Diane."

He wasn't even looking at her anymore. He was staring at the asphalt down below. It was easily a hundred foot drop. It would probably kill him instantly...She was wrong. His cells weren't dying. He'd never felt so alive. It was like every nerve was on fire, screaming at him to jump. He felt like laughing.

"No!" He was distracted by Diane shrieking. Apparently it had worked. She had lowered the gun enough for Morgan to get up close and wrestle it from her hands. He already had her hands behind her back.

It was over.

 _It could be over forever if I jumped..._ He turned again to the wind, feeling the breeze blow across his face. Chills ran up and down his spine.

"Hotch!" JJ shouted. "It's over, you can come down now." He heard the nervous edge to her voice, and made the split second decision to step down. He couldn't do it. He inwardly cursed himself for being such a coward. But at the same time, he felt sick...had he really almost given up? He was a lot of things, but a quitter?

"You okay?" JJ asked.

"Yes. I'm just glad it worked."

"Okay." She looked at him with concern, but didn't push it. She walked over to Reid and Maeve, who were just holding each other. Poor kids.

Hotch turned just as Rossi walked up to him.

"What the hell was that?"

"I don't know what you mean."

Rossi glared. "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about."

Damn. Hotch was hoping no one had noticed. Still, he maintained innocence. "Please, enlighten me."

"You hesitated. You were in the clear. You could've stepped off the ledge at anytime. Not to mention the fact that you willingly got up there in the first place."

"I wanted to make sure."

"You and I both know that's not true." Rossi said quietly. "I saw your face. You were actually _thinking_ about it."

"About what, jumping? That's ridiculous." He started to walk away, but Rossi grabbed his arm.

"You've been more reckless with your life since Haley died. But until now I didn't think you were actually suicidal."

Hotch flinched at the word. "I'm not. I don't know what you think you saw, but you can't go around making accusations like that." He said icily, shaking his arm from Rossi's grasp. He walked over to check on Reid and Maeve, who were too wrapped up in each other to notice much of anything else.

"You're so beautiful." Reid was saying to her.

She ducked her head and blushed. "You're just saying that."

"I'm not though. You're the most amazing woman I've ever laid eyes on." Reid stroked her cheek.

"God, if it wasn't so adorable I'd be throwing up." Morgan joked.

* * *

Hotch let the rest of the team go home. (With the exception of Reid, who accompanied Maeve to the hospital. He had a feeling it would be a while before he let her out of his sight.) They'd been through enough tonight, there was no need to keep them longer. He would finish the report himself.

He shut himself in his office and sank into the chair. After all the adrenaline, he felt dead now. He had been so close to stepping off that ledge, he'd almost ended it all...left Jack behind...

But he couldn't let it go. Those moments when he'd been staring at the pavement below...it was the most alive he'd felt in years.

 _Except for when Emily touched me..._

He angrily pushed the thought from his mind. Tonight's experience had only confirmed that she was better off without him.

He was startled by a soft knocking at the door. _What the..._ Hadn't he sent everyone home?

"Come in," he called out, standing up and instinctively reaching for his gun.

"Hey, what are you still doing here?" It was Prentiss. Of course, it had to be her..

"Someone had to write up the report." He relaxed a little, leaning against his desk.

"It could've waited until morning, you know."

"Speaking of which, why haven't you gone home?"

"I wanted to check on you."

"Why?" Hotch asked suspiciously.

She laughed. "Relax, this isn't an interrogation. I just...I'm worried about you."

"You're...you're worried about _me?_ Why?"

"For starters, that stunt you pulled tonight. What were you thinking?"

"I was thinking it could save Maeve's life. And I was right." He said defensively.

She put her hands up. "Look, I'm not saying it was the wrong thing to do, I'm saying you did it a little too eagerly."

He was silent.

"Even when she was safe, when Morgan had Diane in cuffs...you stayed up there. Your eyes sort of glazed over, and for a minute I thought you were going to..." She trailed off. "Aaron, are you okay?"

He had to look away. "I'm fine."

"I know you've been saying that, but I'm not sure I believe it."

While they were talking, she had been getting closer and closer to him. She was looking up into his eyes, her body turned in such a way that they were almost touching.

"Emily..."

"Please, just talk to me." She begged.

He wasn't ready to talk about it yet, but he felt like he had to give her something. "I..the reason we can't be together is because bad things happen to people I care about."

She tilted her head slightly. "One bad experience doesn't make things like that true."

"It wasn't one bad experience. I tried to share my life with someone, and look what happened to her!"

Prentiss stepped back a little, and Hotch realized that it came out a little harsh.

"I'm sorry, I just..."

"No, it's okay..."She took his hand. "I just want you to realize that it's not you. It would be different with us."

"Emily, I can't lose anyone else. I can't lose you."

"If I died tomorrow, would you grieve?"

"Of course!" He was taken aback by her question.

"I'm in danger every day. It's not you; it's this job. If we were together, it wouldn't change the fact that we risk our lives whenever we're in the field, and even sometimes when we're not."

"I can't..."

"Aaron, we've seen how irrational beliefs like this can mess people up. You need to understand that us being in a relationship does _not_ suddenly make me more vulnerable to the evil around us. And you would miss me just as much if I died and we weren't together."

He processed everything she had said...it was true, as much as he hated to admit it. But there was one more thing on his mind.

"I don't deserve you." He said quietly.

Her eyes widened. "What do you mean?"

"You're beautiful, smart, confident...and I'm just-" She cut him off with a kiss.

For the second time that night, he was alive again. Her lips were so soft, her touch so gentle but so passionate...he felt dizzy. Intoxicated. Breathless. When she finally pulled away, he couldn't even remember what he'd been saying.

"You're perfect, Aaron." She whispered, gazing up at him once again. "Please, let me love you."

He was far from perfect, but he couldn't bear to argue with her. He answered her with another kiss. "I'm yours." He murmured.

* * *

 **I'm proud of myself for writing a chapter this long. What did you think? Please leave a review :) Also, how should Prentiss react when she finds out he's been cutting?**


	12. Chapter 12

Prentiss was dating Hotch.

She was dating Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the BAU.

She was dating her _boss._

They decided to keep it quiet for the time being. She wasn't sure when they would break the news to the team, but wouldn't be surprised if they figured it out on their own.

Although they didn't tell the team, there was one person Hotch could never keep a secret from: Jack. Prentiss had been worried at first. What if Jack didn't like her? What if he thought she was trying to replace his mother? But she didn't have to worry. Jack accepted her into their little family immediately. Most of their dates were spent taking him places and playing games with him. The little boy was obviously the light of Hotch's life, and it made her heart melt to watch them together. Aaron was such a good father.

Prentiss had never been this happy in a relationship before. Hotch treated her like a goddess. He brought her flowers. Sent her little surprises in the mail. Found out what her favorite movies were and then rented them so they could watch them together. Her new favorite past time was cuddling up to him after a long day, and watching a romantic comedy. She couldn't get enough of his laugh.

She never would have pegged him as a cuddly sort of guy, but he showed his affection in a surprisingly physical way. Around the office he kept it professional, of course. But when they were alone, he was always holding her hand, playing with her hair, absently stroking her arm, hugging her from behind...she loved it.

As physical as he was, however, they had yet to make love. Whenever things started to get heated, he would pull away. It definitely wasn't a matter of arousal; she'd felt him get hard more than once. But for some reason he never wanted to take things further. It was started to get frustrating.

She could tell he was hiding something. His walls were coming down slowly, so she didn't want to push it. She figured that he would tell her when he was ready. Aaron Hotchner was never one to talk about his feelings.

* * *

It was a Friday night. Jack was sleeping over with his cousins, so they had Hotch's apartment to themselves. They had just finished watching a movie, and were snuggling on the couch.

Aaron adjusted his arm a bit and she giggled.

"What?"

"That tickled a little!"

He grinned mischievously and poked at her side again.

She laughed, squirming. "Nooo!" She pinned his hands down and sat on his lap. "What now?" She purred.

He looked up at her, eyes dark with desire. He kissed her, and she instinctively let his hands go. He took this opportunity to snake his arms around her waist and pull her closer.

She pulled her mouth away from his, ghosting over his collarbone with her lips. She gently nipped his earlobe and smiled when she felt his erection beneath her. His excitement fueled her own, and she began to tease him, rocking her hips against his.

He inhaled sharply and let out a small moan. "Emily..."

She began to undo his shirt, but his hands shot up and grabbed hers.

"Aaron," She whined with disappointment.

"Emily, I...I'm sorry." He looked away.

"What's wrong?" She reluctantly climbed off his lap.

"I just...I'm not ready."

She was silent for a moment. "What aren't you telling me?"

The corner of his mouth twitched, something she'd come to recognize as his guilty tell.

"Aaron, what is it? You can trust me."

He looked nervous. Almost as nervous as he'd been on their first date. What was he hiding?

"Emily, there's something you don't know about me. Something...something no one knows about me. I-I've never told anyone."

God, he looked so anxious. As if whatever he had to tell her could potentially end the relationship. She recognized the fear in his eyes. "What is it?" She took his hand and brought it to her lips in a gesture of comfort.

He drew in a shaky breath. "Take off my shirt." He said quietly.

"What?"

"Just do it."

She was confused, but climbed on top of him again and started to unfasten his shirt buttons. She felt him trembling beneath her.

"Shh, it's okay." She softly stroked his face.

He didn't seem to relax at all, but she continued. As soon as the third button was loose, she saw the scars. At first she thought they were courtesy of Foyet, but as she went further down, she realized there were too many. She finished undoing the buttons and let his shirt fall open.

There were the 9 large scars that The Reaper had given him, but there were dozens more that could only be explained by one thing...

"Aaron..." She whispered, dragging her eyes away from the scars. There were so many...and some of them were still healing. "Did...did you do this to yourself?"

He couldn't look her in the eyes. "Yes." He admitted softly, starting to button his shirt back up.

"Hey," She stopped him, taking his hands once again. She gently tilted his face up. "Look at me."

He hesitantly met her gaze.

"I love you. This doesn't change anything."

He exhaled, closing his eyes. "Thank God...I just...I was so scared you would leave me." His voice sounded so broken, so vulnerable...

"I would never leave you." She nuzzled his neck. "How long has it been?"

"A week."

"Oh..." She felt tears prick at her eyes. "Why?" She sniffled.

"Emily, please don't cry..."

"Why are you doing this? Is it because of me?"

"NO! No, it's not your fault, this has nothing to do with you." He gently wiped a tear from her cheek. "You've been helping me."

"When did this start?" She asked.

"The night of Haley's funeral."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories..."

"It's okay, bad memories don't need a trigger, they just...are. But when I'm with you, I forget about things for a while." He pulled her close.

"Why are you still hurting yourself? I mean, no offense, but it's been a while since Haley..."

"I know. I used to only do it when something reminded me of her, but over time it's evolved into something different. It's like...it's like the first thing I think of when something goes wrong. It doesn't make sense, but somehow it...helps." He sighed. "I'm sorry. I know this is impossible to understand."

"I'm so sorry you're hurting." She hesitantly reached out to touch his chest. "Can...can I touch them?"

He nodded, and she gently ran her fingers over the scars. "Please stop this."

"I'll try."

She put her arms around his neck and hugged him. "Thank you." She said softly.

Suddenly it was like they couldn't get close enough to each other. Their mouths collided and their tongues danced. His lips massaged hers in the most delicious way. Her fingers were tangled in his hair, and his hands slowly made their way up her shirt. She leaned into his touch. She needed to feel his skin on hers. She slipped his shirt the rest of the way off, and he helped her pull her blouse over her head.

"Touch me." She begged.

He eagerly complied, squeezing her breasts and kissing her neck hungrily. He fumbled to undo her bra, staring in awe when it fell away. She was so beautiful. He lost himself, drowning on her taste, her smell, her velvety skin...His hands caressed her back and descended to the curve of her perfect ass, hesitating only a second before squeezing her and pressing her directly into his erection.

She moaned deeply and gripped his hair tightly while his hands continued to roam her body. She dropped her own hands to rest on his thighs, caressing them through the denim while she rocked her hips more provocatively against him.

"Bedroom?" He managed to ask breathlessly.

"Thought you'd never ask."

They made their way down the hallway, clothes coming off the entire way. When they reached his room, they were in nothing but underwear. His black boxers did little to cover his evident desire. She had felt him before, knew that he was well-endowed...but _damn..._

He gently laid her down on the bed, crawling on top of her. His fingers ghosted across her wet panties, and she quivered beneath his touch.

"More," She pleaded.

"Like this?" He murmured, slipping her panties to the side and shoving a finger inside her.

"Oh, _God, yes!"_

He continued to work her open, adding a second finger, then a third. She writhed beneath him. "A-Aaron, please...I need you _inside_ me."

He didn't have to be told twice. He threw his boxers practically across the room, and his erect member sprung free. Her eyes widened. The man was _huge_! He reached over to the bedside table, removing a few condoms from the drawer. He ripped one open with his mouth and slid it onto his erection. He lined himself up at her entrance.

"Are you ready?" He asked, breathing heavily.

"Yes, _give it to me,_ please." She whimpered.

He slowly pushed inside her, allowing her to adjust to his size. "God, you're so _tight."_ He groaned.

Her breath hitched and she threw her head back as he bottomed out. She felt so _full._ "Move." She commanded.

He obeyed, rocking his hips. The little sounds of pleasure she was making were _so hot._ "Emily..." He gasped. "Oh, you feel so good..." He reached up to cup her breast with one hand. The other was positioned directly over her clit, rubbing the swollen nub,

"Faster!" She cried out. She could feel the tension building in her stomach. His thrusts grew more frantic. She hoisted her legs around his waist, allowing him to go even deeper. His thumb flicked once more over her clit, and she was _gone._ "Aaron!"

"Oh, Emily!" They came together, moaning each other's names. He stayed inside her for a moment while they rode out their orgasms, shivering in pleasure.

When it was over, he slowly slid out of her and disposed of the condom. He collapsed beside her, taking her into his arms.

"That was amazing." She breathed.

"Mhmm." He agreed, pulling her close. It felt so good to lie next to her, feel her soft skin next to his heart...he inhaled her sweet scent. "I love you." He murmured.

"I love you too." They stayed that way for a while, just holding each other. Her hands unconsciously reached up to stroke his scars, and he tensed.

"Relax," She said softly. She sat up, kissing each one of his scars before laying her head on his chest. "I love you." She repeated.

He knew. He could feel it. He felt _loved,_ and thought to himself that maybe she would be the one to save him from himself.

* * *

 **Hey guys! What did you think? Was it too smutty? Do you think Prentiss' reaction was realistic? Leave a review, please! :)**


	13. Chapter 13

The next morning, Hotch woke up to Prentiss snuggled against his chest. He smiled, realizing he'd slept better last night than in a long time. He kissed her hair, and she stirred.

She opened her eyes and smiled sleepily. "Good morning."

"I'd have to agree with you there."

"It was also a good night." She grinned.

He chuckled. "Definitely. We need to do this more often."

"Yes, we do." Her smiled faded as her gaze dropped down to his scars once again.

He wished that she would stop looking at them. He rolled out of bed and looked around for his shirt.

"I think it's in the living room." She said with amusement.

"Right." He grinned sheepishly.

"Aaron," She walked over to him. "We need to talk about this."

"I thought we did."

She sighed. "Yes, but-"

"Could we at least wait until after you put some clothes on? I'm a bit...distracted."

She laughed. "Fair enough."

* * *

Ten minutes later, Hotch was in the kitchen making coffee. Prentiss walked in wearing one of his shirts. He couldn't help but stare. It looked so big on her. It was adorable.

"What are you looking at?"

"The most beautiful girl in the world." He answered, wrapping his arms around her waist.

She giggled. "You can't get out of it that easy."

"It was worth a try."

They sat down on the couch. "Aaron, you need help."

"It's under control."

"Is something like this ever really under control?"

"It's not that big of a deal, Emily."

She raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yes."

"What if it was someone else on the team? What if it was me?"

He was quiet. "That's different."

"How?"

"I-I know what I'm doing." He said defensively. "I always sanitize the blade and the area I intend to cut. I properly bandage them, and I never cut deeper than I can handle."

"If Strauss found out, it could cost you your career. You know that, right?"

"Yes. Why do you think I waited so long to tell you? Please...I'm trusting you to keep this between us."

"Aaron, you don't need this." Sadness filled her eyes.

He looked down. "I don't know how to cope without it anymore."

"Let me help you. If you can stop, I won't tell anyone. Okay? I just...I want to make sure you get the help you need. If you can't quit..."

"I will. I-I can stop."

"I'll be with you every step of the way."

* * *

 **Another short chapter, sorry. I need some HELP with the next chapter, I want Hotch to get triggered by a case and have Emily try to help him not to relapse. Which case should it be? I have three in mind: The first was the blood artist guy, who killed people and painted with their blood (idk if it would trigger him, it kinda triggered me) The second one is where that one cutter kidnapped husbands and wives and made them cut each other, and then switched his MO to just kidnapping the wife and making her cut him. The third is the one where Hotch's brother was involved in all the drug crap. Family problems have always been a trigger for me. Soooo, which one of these cases should I use? Thanks again, guys. y'all are awesome.**


	14. Chapter 14

**(SPOILERS for Season 8 episode 23, Brothers Hotchner) Also, trigger warning for self harm.**

* * *

At first, Hotch was confident that he could quit. He rarely needed to cut anyway. And with Prentiss in his life, what reason would he have for it? When the emotions threatened to overwhelm him, he would just run to her.

He was right. At first, it was easy. But then something happened. Something that shook his resolve.

Sean came back into his life. His brother that he hadn't seen for years. A good thing, right? It would have been, under different circumstances.

Sean had called him in a panic after witnessing a bloody drug overdose at the bar he worked for. Upon further investigation, it was discovered that a serial killer was using Ecstasy as his weapon of choice. Things only spiraled downhill from there.

The first blow: Sean admitted to using Ecstasy.

The second: The case ended with his brother being taken into custody for assaulting a suspect, and then fleeing the scene.

It was a good thing Hotch had connections within the Justice Department.

* * *

That night, the team decided to do some sight-seeing before going home. New York was beautiful this time of year. Prentiss wanted to stay with Hotch, but he had essentially ordered her to go out with them. She couldn't make up a decent excuse to stay without arousing suspicion, so she reluctantly left.

'call if you need me' She texted him once they had left.

Truthfully, the reason he had sent her away was because he didn't want her to stop him. After a case like this, he needed it. Just a few cuts. Nothing big. She would forgive him, wouldn't she?

 _NO. She's gonna tell someone. I'm going to lose my job._

Hotch was shaking. He wanted to cut. He needed to cut. He needed to feel the cold steel bite through his skin, feel the blood dripping down his body...

He couldn't tell her that he was having these urges again. She couldn't know how weak he was.

But if he relapsed, it would only be proving his weakness.

 _Just a couple. Just two cuts and then I'll be done._

He quickly sanitized the blade and his chest, and made a small cut on his stomach.

 _Wait, why isn't it working?_

He could see it, the blade slicing through his skin like it was paper, the blood beading up and dripping down...but there was no pain. His body barely even registered the pressure. He dug deeper, hoping to feel something, anything other than this...

 _Why can't I feel it?_

* * *

New York was amazing, but Prentiss would've preferred to stay at the hotel. She knew Hotch wasn't okay. He wouldn't _talk_ to her, which scared her more than anything. She thought they were past this.

Just as they were pulling up to the Statue of Liberty, her phone rang. She checked the caller ID.

"Hotch?" She answered.

"Emily," His voice sounded weak and strained. "I need you."


	15. Chapter 15

"What's going on?" Prentiss lowered her voice. The rest of the team was already headed out to the Statue, but Rossi stayed behind, sensing that something was wrong.

"I just...I need you. Can you come back without causing a scene?"

She turned away from Rossi. "Yes, I'll be there soon. Aaron, please don't hurt yourself. You're stronger than this. You've been doing so well."

He hesitated. "I'm sorry, Emily."

"It's too late, isn't it?

"I'm sorry," He repeated. She could hear the guilt in his voice.

She glanced at Rossi, who was watching with concern in his eyes. "How bad is it?" She asked quietly.

"N-not bad."

"Aaron, do I need to call an ambulance?"

"No! Please...please don't. I'm fine. It's nothing. In fact, d-don't worry about coming back. I'll be okay."

His labored breathing suggested otherwise. She needed to get there fast. "I'm on my way." She hung up before he could protest. She turned back toward Rossi. "Hey, I'm gonna get a cab back to the hotel, could you let everyone know not to wait for me?"

"I'll come with you."

"Oh, that's really not necess-"

"It's Hotch, isn't it?"

She hesitated.

"Look, I know you two are together. We all do. It's hard to hide from a team of Profilers. But there's also something else going on with him. I don't know what it is, but I'm worried about him too."

She sighed. "It's a long story, and it's something he's gonna have to tell you himself."

Rossi wasn't happy with the answer, but he accepted it. He texted JJ to let her know where they had gone.

* * *

They paid the cab driver extra to break the speed limit. When they arrived at the hotel, they all but jogged to Hotch's room.

"Aaron?" She called out. There was no response, and when she tried the door it was locked.

"Dammit!" She felt sick. She never should have left him here alone. She knew he wasn't okay...

"Here." Rossi gently pushed her aside, and used his credit card to jimmy the door open.

"Thanks. You can go back to your room, I'll call if I need you." She slipped inside and closed the door. The room was dark, but there was a light coming from the bathroom. Luckily the door was unlocked. She cautiously opened it, and immediately gasped in horror.

Hotch was on the floor, propped up against the tub. His entire chest was covered in dozens of fresh gashes, all bleeding pretty heavily. He didn't seem to register that she was there. He just stared blankly ahead, razor still in his hand.

"Aaron," Her voice broke as she dropped to her knees beside him. She carefully pried the razor from his fingers and set it on the counter. Her hands were shaking. There was so much blood...

 _Come on. Get it together. He needs you._

She grabbed a towel and pressed it to the worst of the wounds. The white fabric was immediately stained red.

"The hotel isn't gonna like that we bloodied up their towels." He finally spoke, looking down at the crimson mess.

"You think?" She said flatly. "Aaron, what happened?"

"I...I couldn't stop...I couldn't feel it. I couldn't feel it..."

He didn't seem to be in any pain, which was surprising considering he was bleeding profusely from several deep lacerations. "Aaron, look at me."

He reluctantly met her gaze, and she saw that his pupils were fully dilated and his eyes unfocused. She gently took his wrist, checking his pulse. It was rapid but weak, and his skin was cold to the touch. "You're in shock." She said quietly.

"Oh." He seemed unconcerned.

"We need to get you to a hospital." She reached for her phone.

"No." He snapped, his eyes focusing on hers for the first time. "No hospitals."

"Hotch, look at yourself! You need help!"

"We both have medical training. We can fix this."

She shook her head angrily. "That's not the kind of help I'm talking about, and you know it."

"Please." His gaze softened.

"If the bleeding doesn't stop in five minutes, I'm driving you to the Emergency Room.

"Deal."

* * *

Two minutes later, the bleeding had stopped almost completely. It was definitely a good thing, but Emily was still considering taking him to a hospital.

She got some wet towels and gently cleaned the blood off his chest.

"Can you stand up?"

He nodded. She helped him up, supporting him while they shuffled over to the bed.

"I don't want to get blood on the sheets."

She rolled her eyes, but helped him take off the remainder of his blood-soaked clothes, leaving him in nothing but his boxers.

She eased him onto the bed, and he winced.

"You okay?"

"It hurts." He seemed surprised.

She scoffed. "That's what happens when you slice yourself open with a razor." She sighed. While the bleeding had stopped, he was definitely going to need stitches.

"Aaron, you need stitches on at least five of these."

"Rossi always keeps a first aid kit with sutures in it. Sneak into his room and get it."

"Or I could just go over and ask him for it."

He blinked. "I thought he was out with the rest of the team."

"He came back with me."

"Did you tell him?" He asked anxiously, trying to sit up.

"Hey, relax." She gently pushed him back down, but noticed that the deeper cuts had started bleeding again. "Dammit." She retrieved another towel from the bathroom and put pressure on the wounds.

"Did you tell him?" He repeated through clenched teeth.

"No. I probably should have, but no."

"Thank God."

"Aaron, I'm not giving you stitches. I'm not a doctor."

"That's fine. I'll do it myself."

"Or I could take you to the hospital."

"That's not happening."

She glared at him in frustration. "Why didn't you just call me?"

"I did."

"Before you decided to fillet yourself."

"I didn't want you to stop me." He said quietly.

Her gaze softened. "Aaron, why? You were getting better."

"Sean." He admitted. "My brother was in trouble, and I did nothing to help."

"You hadn't spoken to him in years, you couldn't have known he was using."

"Exactly. I hadn't spoken to him in years. He's my younger brother! My responsibility! I should have been there for him..."

"From what I understand, you tried. He pushed you away."

"I should have tried harder. He turned to drugs instead of me."

"Hey," She took his hand. "He moved away, changed his number...he didn't even show up for Haley's funeral. There was nothing you could have done. This is on him."

"I guess." He didn't look convinced.

"Why did you cut so bad? You're usually so careful." She asked, still holding the towel against the cuts.

"I couldn't feel it. No matter how deep I...I just couldn't feel it. I panicked."

Just then, Emily's phone buzzed. It was a text from Rossi:

 **Everything ok?**

"Who's that?"

"It's Rossi. He wants to know if everything is okay."

"Tell him yes."

She glared at him. "Everything is _not_ okay. You need stitches."

"It's really not that bad. I could survive without them."

"Not if you want everything to heal properly. You'd never pass your next physical."

"Fine. Ask him for the sutures, and I'll patch myself up."

"Rossi has more experience with this than both of us. He could help."

"No."

"Why not?"

"Obvious reasons. He can't know, Emily."

"Would you forget your stupid pride for one goddamn second and let us help you?" She raised her voice.

"It's not about my pride, it's about my career. He'll tell Strauss." His breathing was growing more unsteady, and she worried that he would have a panic attack.

She sighed. "Fine. If I make him promise not to tell anyone, will you let him help?"

"I d-don't see how you're gonna get him to agree to that."

"Just trust me." She knew she was asking a lot. Hotch had more trust issues than any of them. But it was either this or drugging him, and she was pretty sure he'd never forgive her if he woke up in the hospital.

He hesitated, but finally nodded his consent. "Alright."

She dialed, and Rossi answered on the first ring.

"Emily. What's happening?"

"It's...a long story. Could you come over to Hotch's room? And bring your first aid kit. The one with the sutures."

There was silence on the other end for a moment. "Are you serious? Who needs stitches? What the hell happened?"

"If we tell you, you have to promise not to tell anyone." Emily cringed. God, that sounded like something from grade school.

"You're not involved in anything illegal, are you?"

"No."

"Alright, then. I guess I'm in."

"Great. We'll explain when you get here."

* * *

 **Sorry it's been so long since my last update, I've been busy with adult stuff, which really sucks. Anyway, thanks for reading! How do you think Rossi will react? Leave your ideas in a review :) Thanks!**


	16. One Hell of a Relapse

**That awkward moment when you're reading over your fanfiction, trying to figure out how to start up again, and you realize it's completely unrealistic. Seriously, they should have taken Hotch to a hospital by now. Oops.**

* * *

"This is a mistake." Hotch muttered, feeling uneasy. He didn't want Rossi to see him like this.

"I think it was a mistake not to take you straight to the hospital."

There was a knock at the door. "That didn't take long." Hotch grabbed a sheet and threw it over his lower half. He'd almost forgotten he was wearing nothing but boxers. There was no need to sacrifice all of his dignity.

Emily quickly opened the door and let Rossi in.

"Okay, what have you crazy kids done now?"

He walked over to the bed, and nearly dropped his first aid kit. "Aaron, what the hell?"

Hotch couldn't meet his gaze.

"Did someone attack you? Why aren't we arresting anyone? Or a better question, why the hell haven't you taken him to the hospital?"

"I told you this was a mistake."

"Will someone please tell me what's going on?"

Hotch looked to Prentiss. "I can't do this," He whispered.

She sighed, squeezing his hand in a gesture of comfort.

"Aaron did this to himself, Rossi. There's no one to arrest."

Rossi just stared at them in shock for a moment. Shock turned to realization. "I knew it. Goddammit, Aaron." He opened up the first aid kit and set to work.

Hotch blinked. Just like that? Rossi sure knew how to roll with the punches. "You knew?"

"Ever since you almost threw yourself off a building."

"That was different-"

"Yes, self-harm and suicide are different. I know. But I could tell there was something more going on." Rossi dabbed the wounds with disinfectant, and Hotch had to bite his lip to keep from crying out.

Prentiss was trying not to cry as well. It hurt to see him like this. Rossi finished stitching him up, and together they bandaged the wounds.

"If there are any complications; _**any,**_ we are taking you to the hospital. Do you understand?" Rossi glared.

"Yes, sir."

"Good."

Hotch felt horrible. First he had dragged Prentiss into this, now Rossi. "You're, uh, not going to tell anyone, are you?"

Wrong question.

"What if I did?" Rossi challenged angrily. "I should."

"Please,"

"You need help!"

"That's what I keep telling him." Prentiss sighed.

"Aaron, this has to stop."

"It will, I promise." He said weakly.

Rossi sighed. "We can talk about this in the morning. You need to rest. Prentiss, stay with him tonight. Make sure he doesn't do anything more stupid than he's already done."

Hotch started to protest, but Rossi cut him off.

"Look, we all know you're a couple. There's no need to hide it. The team won't suspect anything else is wrong."

"Okay," Hotch nodded. "And...thank you."

Rossi gave a noise of acknowledgment, and left the room. It didn't take a profiler to see that he was upset.

"God, I'm so stupid."

"Hey," Prentiss carefully climbed onto the bed and lay on her side next to him. "You're not stupid. You're in pain. That makes us do stupid things sometimes."

"Hm."

"How are you feeling?"

"Fine. Hurts a little."

"It probably hurts more than a little. If we went to the hospital they would give you pain pills." She pointed out again.

"I can handle the pain."

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should."

He laughed half-heartedly. "Why do I feel like that has an ulterior meaning?"

She rolled her eyes. "Go to sleep, Aaron."

* * *

Back in his room, Rossi was regretting his decision not to take Hotch to the hospital. What was the kid thinking? He knew Aaron was struggling, but he seemed better since he and Prentiss had gotten together. This was one hell of a relapse.

He had just started to get ready for bed when his cell phone rang. "Prentiss?"

"Hey, Aaron is asleep. Can we talk?" Her voice was quiet.

"Yeah, definitely."

"How are you doing?"

"How am I doing? How's he doing?"

"Sleeping as well as can be expected."

Rossi sighed. "I'm alright, just trying to process everything. What the hell happened?"

"He's been doing so well...but everything with Sean..."

"Makes sense. Are his relapses normally this bad, though?"

"I don't think so. He's actually really careful about the whole thing. This was an anomaly. He told me he couldn't feel it." Prentiss

Rossi wasn't surprised. Hotch was the definition of overly cautious. When he finally snapped, it was always intense. "He couldn't feel it?"

"I'm thinking adrenaline."

"Probably. Or dissociation. Either way, the kid needs help, Emily."

"I know, I just don't know what to do. His career is at stake here."

"Prentiss, his _life_ is at stake."

She was quiet for a moment. "You said it yourself, self-harm and suicide are very different."

"But we know he's been suicidal. And what if he relapses worse in the future? He could accidentally kill himself."

"He's too careful-"

"Except for tonight. If you hadn't shown up, he could have bled out."

"But he called me...that counts for something, doesn't it?"

"Does it?"

He heard faint sniffling, and realized she was crying. "I don't know what to do," She confessed. "I can't lose him. I don't feel like he would open up to a therapist. You know him, he barely talks to me."

"Well he needs to start talking to someone." He sighed. "Try to get some rest. It's been a long day. We could use the sleep. We'll deal with it in the morning."


End file.
